


Sophia Verna Reyes

by littlefrog1025



Series: GOOD WOLVES DOING BAD THINGS [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, BAMF Stiles, Cute Kids, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erica-centric, F/M, Future Fic, Implied Mpreg, Kid Fic, M/M, Mafia AU, POV Erica, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7882621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlefrog1025/pseuds/littlefrog1025
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's a lot stronger than she knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sophia Verna Reyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McDannoIsaNagron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McDannoIsaNagron/gifts), [redpup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpup/gifts).



> This fic has been a long time in the making. I'm so sorry for the wait, but the wedding is over (phew!), and I can now go back to concentrating on gay werewolves in love ;)

* * *

**October 2032**

* * *

He’s been staring at her since she walked in, smiling at her with that sultry grin as he sips his beer.

He’s big. All muscle and tall, with long, sandy brown hair past his shoulders. Killer blue eyes.

He motions to the bartender, a middle-aged woman, ragged and worn, with a cigarette dangling from her lips. She blows out a stream of smoke, flicking her ash quickly onto the floor, then tucks the cigarette back into her mouth.

He motions at her. The bartender gives her a glance before nodding, and grabbing a bottle of vodka.

She smiles.

The salty bartender staggers over with a light pink drink in her hand and drops it in front of her. “Greyhound. From the Romeo over there,” she points, before walking back to the other end of the bar.

She’s surprised. She didn’t think such a dive bar as this would even have know how to make a Greyhound, let alone have grapefruit juice. She looks at him, and he smiles that same sultry grin as he lifts his beer in salute to her.

She nods, motioning for him to join her.

He climbs off his bar stool. At full height he’s even more looming. His heavy work boots stomp as he casually makes his way to her. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“I’m [Ryder](http://41.media.tumblr.com/4701c88e54a67ff4ea94cdb789797e38/tumblr_nu15vxxyoz1tgzq12o1_1280.jpg).”

“Erica.”

»»»

They’ve been sleeping together for 6 months now, and Erica still doesn’t know what exactly they are. Are they fuck buddies, friends-with-benefits, a couple? Are they in an open relationship? Erica hasn’t slept with anyone else, and she’s too afraid if to ask Ryder if he has.

She likes him too much to know the truth.

…She loves him.

More than she’s ever loved anyone. Even Boyd.

She thought at first it was just a different kind of love than the one she had for her fellow beta and pack mate, but it’s not. It’s bigger, scarier, and leaves her more exposed than she ever wants to be.

“Why do we have to put a label on it, you know? Don’t we have fun? Aren’t we cool,” he asks, pulling her close, rough hands on her ass.

They are, but she wants more. She wants all of him. To herself. She wants to exchange ‘I love yous’ and bring him to the pack house. She wants him to meet her Alphas, and she wants to meet his. She wants to be introduced as his girlfriend and not just as ‘Erica’ to anyone they happen to run into on the street. She wants to hold his hand through the park and spend a full moon together.

She wants him to want those things. But he doesn’t. She knows that, and it hurts.

“Yeah,” she says. “We’re cool.”

**March 2033**

* * *

“I’m pregnant.”

He frowns, then shakes his head. “I knew that’s why you smelled sweeter than normal. Jesus,” he bemoans.

It’s not the reaction she was hoping for, but it’s the one she knew she’d get.

“What are you going to do,” he asks.

“I want to keep it, Ryder. I want to keep the baby and raise it with you. Us. Together.”

“I…I can’t do that, Erica. I’m-I’m not… Fuck… I’m not father material.”

He’s not. She knows that. Doesn’t stop her from wanting him to be though. To try. With her. She tells him so.

“Don’t force me to do this, honey. You’ll just disappoint yourself.”

Tears run down her face. She brought this on herself. She stayed thinking he’d grow, change, love her more, the way she wanted. He was never going to, because he never had. She’s a good time, a nice girl from a legendary pack. She was never mate material.

At least not to him.

“You were never in love with me.” She wipes away her mascara-stained tears.

“I like you, Erica, but…”

Her claws extend and she slashes him down his face! “I hope someone hurts you one day, just as much as you hurt me,” she growls.

He takes her assault calmly, bloody running down his face, letting her anger wash over him as the open scars slowly knit back together.

That makes it worse. Him knowing he deserves it.

She grabs her jacket and storms [out](http://www.houzz.com/photos/36296998/Loft-is-Loft-industrial-hall-other-metro).

»»»

Stiles paces up and down the room, gently rocking their infant daughter, [Claudia](http://kariphotography.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/Portrait_0294.jpg), to sleep. “I’ll kill him. I swear to God I’ll kill him.”

“You can’t kill him, Stiles,” Derek reminds, folding clean baby clothes on the bed.

Stiles merely scoffs in response as Claudia’s head lolls on his shoulder.

“As much as we’d like to, there’s no law that says he has to mate with her. Pregnant or not.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but we haven’t exactly been law-abiding citizens since, oh, never,” Stiles snarks.

“Stiles. As much pleasure as it would give me to do so, I am not going to snap a man’s neck for breaking up with my beta.”

“How about for abandoning his pup? Will you claw his throat out for that? And what’s the deal with that? Aren’t weres predisposed to wanting a family, building a pack, or have I been lied to all these years?”

“With their mate, yes. Erica is not his mate, gratefully. And Ryder’s pack is pretty loose with werewolf traditions; he’s been given a wide birth of freedom his whole life. He grew up with an entirely different pack system than ours. He acts almost like a lone wolf. Just without all the Omega craziness,” Derek explains.

“Well, what about his honor and integrity as a man? A wolf? I mean, Erica falls in love with him, tells him she’s pregnant, and he’s like: ‘Sorry, babe, but this bird flies solo’, and that’s okay?”

“It’s not okay—”

“Then do something!”

“First, calm down. You starting to raise you voice and your heartbeat, which is going to do nothing but stir her back up again and it’s already taken us 2 hours to get her this far.”

Stiles takes a deep calming breath… He takes several claming breaths.

Derek listens to the steady rhythm of Stiles’ heartbeat as it evens out. “Better?”

“I’m still pissed, but I am steady in my complete in utter rage,” Stiles answers with a big, fake grin.

“Good. Now, what exactly would you like me to do about Ryder? Force him to marry Erica? Bribe him? Pay him? Threaten him to be with Erica and raise their cub together? How miserable would the two of them and that child be over time? And to even do any of that, we’d have to meet with his Alpha and convince her it’s in Ryder’s best interest to mate with Erica. And I can tell you right now, Stiles, Petra is not going to force one of her best betas into a loveless marriage. Not even for the sake of a cub, because I wouldn’t either. That’s just asking everyone involved to be hurt in the long run.”

“So what? That’s it? He gets to act irresponsibly then decide he’s not ready to be a daddy when the fruits of that irresponsibility come to bear,” Stiles asks, rubbing soft, soothing circles on their daughter’s back.

Derek tosses the last onesie on the pile. “At the very least, he was honest with her.”

“He strung her along for months, knowing how she felt about him, then dumped her the moment things got too complicated for him to control. That’s not honest, Derek.”

“You’re right. But we both have seen Erica do the same to other people. Especially one particular beta.”

“Are you saying she deserves this?”

“No,” says placing the folding baby clothes into a laundry basket. “But I don’t remember you being this outraged when she treated Boyd just as badly.”

“That is absolutely not fair, Derek,” Stiles practically snarls.

“…But it is true.”

Stiles chuckles wryly, so affronted by Derek’s accusation. Derek just shrugs, carrying the basket out of the [room](http://www.houzz.com/photos/15331383/Saratoga-Hilltop-Contemporary-contemporary-bedroom-san-francisco) to the [nursery](http://www.houzz.com/photos/3981113/Hollywood-Glamour-transitional-nursery-san-diego).

Stiles is frozen in place, in complete disbelief to Derek calling him out, and the shameless truth he’s thrown out there between them about Erica.

Claudia’s cooing at his neck knocks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He brings her over to the [cradle](https://www.brattdecor.com/products/chelsea-dot-cradle-set-white.cfm) by his side of the bed, and gently places her in it. She’s out like a light.

He flops down on the bed, looking down at her sweet, sleeping face while Derek’s words tumble around in his head.

He thinks about all the times he’s stood aside and watched as Erica once again flounced back to Boyd after whatever flavor of the month she had gotten bored with was over. The two times her heart was broken and Boyd’s shoulder was there to cry on afterward. The countless times she’s gotten drunk and found him tucked into the corner of the room, grabbing him and kissing him for all the word to see. The times Lydia’s taken her phone to keep her from calling Boyd, playing with his heart again. He remembers the dozen or so times Derek and Isaac have had to take him out for a beer, or a run, once Erica was through with him and moved on.

He thinks about the one time he actually did say something to her about using Boyd, just to make some werecoyote jealous. She just giggled and said, _“I know what I’m doing, Stiles. Don’t worry.”_ He thinks about the one measly date Boyd’s been on, and how he hasn’t been on another for almost 3 years.

Boyd is his beta. His sweetest, most kind, most loyal, and smartest (after Lydia, of course) beta. He should have helped him, supported him. He should have protected him. Even from Erica. It’s his job to look after his pack, and that includes their hearts.

And he didn’t with Boyd. He failed him.

“Goddamit.”

Sometimes, he hates when Derek’s right.

»»»

“What’s going on in there? They fighting about me still,” she asks.

“You know I don’t eavesdrop on Stiles and Derek, Erica,” Boyd reminds her.

They’re at the edge of the [gorge](http://www.houzz.com/photos/15331458/Saratoga-Hilltop-Contemporary-contemporary-pool-san-francisco), pack house behind them, city lights of San Francisco before them. The chilly night air brushes past them. Erica pulls her blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“Want my jacket?”

She shakes her head. “No. Thanks though.”

They’re quiet, watching the bright lights of the city beyond…

“Erica—”

“Don’t. I know what you’re going to say, Boyd.”

“But—”

“Why do you let me do this to you? Why would you keep letting me hurt you? You don’t deserve that, Vernon.”

“It wouldn’t hurt me to raise a baby with you, Erica.”

“…You’re such a good man, V.” Tears run down her cheeks. “I wish I could be the girl you need me to be.”

“…I know.”

She sees the sadness in his face through the darkness

“Did I do something,” he asks, and she wants the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

“No, Boyd. It was never about you. You were never the problem. I’m just not the 17 year old girl you should be with anymore.”

He’s quiet again. Longer this time, staring off into the distance…

“I scared to be anyone but you. You get me, and I’m not that easy to get,” he admits.

She takes his hand into hers. “There’s a woman out there who knows you inside and out. She doesn’t ‘get’ you. She loves you. She’ll come to you when you’re ready.”

He smiles lightly. “That’s almost exactly what Stiles told me once.”

“And how often is he wrong? I’d take those odds if I were you.”

He chuckles.

“I’m keeping this baby. I’ll raise it on my own.”

He squeezes her hand in his. “No, you won’t. Not with this pack. You’ll never be alone when you have us. When you have me.”

Erica’s blanket falls from her body as she lunges to wrap her grateful arms around Boyd. Her friend. Her pack-brother. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Everything. I’m sorry for…for just everything. God, do you deserve better…”

He ducks his head, embarrassed by her statement.

“I’ll forgive you…if you make me a promise.”

Her brow furrows, curious, but she nods, nonetheless.

“Promise me that I’ll get to be apart of your life somehow. You and the baby.”

“We’re in the same pack, idiot,” she jokes.

“I know. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant. I’m teasing,” she smiles.

He nods. “Right,” he says with a blushing grin.

She leans her head on his shoulder. “I promise. Who else would I need more?”

His arm comes around her in a tight squeeze as he sweetly pecks her forehead, making her wish on every star she was as worthy of him as he thinks she is.

 

**May 2033**

* * *

Erica hurls into the toilet bowl. It’s the third time today she’s found herself bent over the commode, tossing up her cookies.

She wipes her mouth with a line of toilet paper.

It could be worse. She could be Stiles when he was pregnant with the twins, she thinks.

A knock on the door interrupts her thoughts.

Allison. Checking on her.

“I’m alive, Allison…barely,” she responds.

The door opens and the brunette pushes open the stall door. “You alright?”

“No. I don’t know why I thought I could go shopping feeling like shit.” She turns her head, grimacing at the bowl. “It’s green. I didn’t even eat anything green. Oh, God…”

Allison smirks. “It’s rough at first, but it eases off after a while.” She extends her hand, helping Erica off the dirty linoleum. “You’re a tough girl. Tough as nails. Morning sickness is nothing.”

Right. She’s got this. She kicks ass. She’s ripped out throats, clawed out hearts, and broken bones. Morning sickness is nothing.

She unspools a sheet of toilet paper, wiping her mouth again, before wavering to a sink. She turns the faucet on and ducks her head under it, rinsing her mouth out.

“You good,” Allison asks.

She nods, still looking a bit queasy, but trying her best to hold it together.

Allison smiles. “Let’s get you some Gatorade.” She links their arms as they head out of the restroom.

 

**June 2033**

* * *

Claudia. Beautiful, sweet Claudia, is a werelion.

There are werelions.

Motherfuking werelions.

And she’s one. So is Theo, Derek’s father, apparently.

Both revelations come to light after a rival pack from Nevada somehow gets wind there is such a thing, and that the Hale Pack has two of them within their family. So they kidnap Claudia.

Or at least they try to.

Needless to say, none of them take Claudia’s attempted kidnapping all too well. Derek had to be chained up under the house after going feral with rage, and Stiles… Well, Stiles ended up covered in more blood than Scott and Jackson.

And now, with Derek fully functioning like a human being again, instead of a murderous, bereaved parent/wolf, they’ve been answering questions with Theo’s help on what exactly a werelion is, and what it means for Claudia and the rest of them.

Apparently it means, Derek and Stiles have decided to shake things up and divide the houses again. For Claudia’s protection, and the sake of their business. They haven’t done that since they were married 13 years ago.

Jackson looks like he’s seconds away from clawing the wall.

Erica gets it. Derek and Stiles divided the pack years ago, when operations first got too big to hide in such a small town like Beacon Hills. That’s when they moved to San Francisco, taking most of the pack with them, sending Valerie, Derek’s middle sister, to Sacramento, and Peter to Fresno.

But now where is everyone supposed to go? She’s pregnant, and scared. This is her first baby and she doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she at least had the comfort of her pack, her Alphas, and their protection, to guide her through it. To help her.

She loves every single member of the Hale Pack, but there’s no one, aside from Boyd, she trusts more than Derek and Stiles. She doesn’t know if she could stand moving to somewhere like Fresno and having a baby with Peter snarking by her side the whole time.

“In order to protect Claudia, aalong with keeping the rest of you out of harms way because she’s a werelion, Derek and I are moving the center of operations back to Beacon Hills. _We’re_ moving back to Beacon Hills.”

The room is quiet, but there’s a million unasked questions hanging in the air, creating a thick tension.

“Beacon Hills is small, contained. We know everyone there, and they know us. It’ll make things easier to manage instead of being here in San Francisco, in such a big city, that’s become too exposed. Too open. Beacon Hills our home territory. My parents, John, Melissa, and Deaton live there. So we have a history, a connection there, as well as protection,” Derek says.

“Not to mention nearly the entire Beacon Hills sheriff’s department will be on our side,” Stiles chimes in.

“And my dad can teach Claudia about being a werelion. He can help her through her shifting,” Derek adds. “He can help her grow as a werecat, and keep her safe better than any of us can.”

Jackson folds his arms over his chest. “So who’s coming with you guys?”

Lydia may be Claudia’s godmother, but Jackson’s done nothing but attach himself to Stiles and Derek’s kids like an overprotective big brother since they were born. Especially Claudia.

Derek and Stiles share nervous glances again, and Erica holds her breath.

“Scott and Allison are coming with us. So is Boyd, Isaac, Peter, and Erica,” Stiles says carefully.

“WHAT,” Lydia and Jackson shout.

“You’re dragging me back to Beacon Hills,” Peter whines.

“Lyds, we need you here in San Francisco. You, Jordan, Danny, and Cora.”

“I’m supposed to just leave my goddaughter? I’m just supposed to be left behind,” the red-headed banshee snaps.

“We’re not punishing any of you. We’re trying to keep things afloat, while keeping our child safe.”

“And I can’t protect her,” Jackson growls.

“Of course you can, Jackie. No one said you couldn’t. We just think it’d be better if you, Kira, and Malia ran things in Fresno while we bring Peter back to Beacon Hills with us.”

“No way to this. No way, Stiles,” Jackson barks. He storms out of the [room](http://www.houzz.com/photos/15331374/Saratoga-Hilltop-Contemporary-contemporary-living-room-san-francisco) to the deck outside. His wife, [Gemma](http://pretty-in-pink-blog.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/taralynn5.jpg), follows him out, giving apologizing eyes to Stiles as she goes.

“W-Where do the rest of us go,” Mason asks. Liam sits beside him, looking as maudlin as Mason sounds.

“Ethan can stay with Valerie in Sacremento. Aiden goes with him. You and Liam are going to LA.”

“What’s in LA,” Liam asks.

“Laura’s territory,” Derek answers to everyone’s surprise.

“We have territory in LA? I thought we only had NorCal,” [Freya](http://65.media.tumblr.com/fd4220c4ddfe9e59a528246593d02dd4/tumblr_nuo17tsO2v1spe5t7o1_500.png), Isaac’s wife, asks.

“Well…that’s another thing we need to tell you guys,” Stiles says.

Erica should be listening, paying attention to the new information flooding the room, but she can’t think about anything else other than being able to stick with Stiles and Derek as they return back to Beacon Hills.

 

**July 2033**

* * *

A girl. She’s having a girl.

Deaton turns the monitor toward her so she can see… She squeezes Stiles’ hand tight as she tears up, looking at her little girl’s heartbeat on the screen.

She was so sure it was a boy, but it’s a girl. Her own little girl.

“You got a name picked out, Catwoman?”

She doesn’t. She honestly wasn’t expecting to be having a girl. She was so sure she wasn’t, and hadn’t even thought of a name in case she was wrong.

She readies to tell Stiles so when it pops into her head. Crackles like lightening and sounds like thunder, feeling like a well-needed summer rain; warm but exciting. She doesn’t hesitate, letting it roll off her tongue like honey.

“Sophia,” she says. “Her name is Sophia.”

 

**August 2033**

* * *

She’s 6 months pregnant. It’s August, hot as hell, and she’s craving a Big Mac…with strawberry syrup instead of its signature “special sauce.” Where the hell is Derek? He should have been back an hour ago.

“You’re going to wear a groove into the floor with all that pacing,” Stiles warns as he encourages Claudia to try walking.

She’s been living with Stiles and Derek in a [guest bedroom](http://www.houzz.com/photos/16218109/Mission-Style-Rancho-in-San-Diego-mediterranean-bedroom-san-diego) since they came back to Beacon Hills last month.

Scott and Allison live next door to John and Melissa, Isaac and Freya have their own place with their two boys, Gaius and Camden. Peter has his own loft apartment on Main St., and Boyd actually lives with Talia and Theo. For all his stoicism and shyness, Boyd doesn’t really like to be alone, and was happy when Talia and Theo suggested he stay with them, in the poolhouse, instead of moving back into his parent’s house, or living alone.

“I’m starving! And my feet are swollen, but Deaton said I have to keep moving around for circulation. Not to mention, my boobs are sore, I have a hemorrhoid, and I’ve got gas.”

“I’ve noticed,” Stiles says with a grimace.

“I hate this. I hate being pregnant. It’s awful. Nothing like it is in the movies,” she snaps.

“Wait until you give birth. It’s a walk in the park,” Stiles snarks.

“All this for a kid. This little, tiny person that’s going to do nothing but cry it’s eyes out all night long, ruin my body, and throw up everywhere,” Erica complains.

“Too late to turn back now, Catwoman.” Stiles sweeps Claudia into his arms.

He steps into her path to keep her from pacing. “All that happens and more. And you’ll hate every second of it, but you’ll bawl your eyes out the moment that little, tiny person is placed in your arms. The second she calls you ‘mama’. The second she smiles, walking over to you on her chubby, fat legs. The second she waves ‘goodbye’ to you on her first day of school. All those insane, irritating moments will be so worth it, just for the ones that make you feel like you can move a mountain when she needs you to kiss away her tears.”

Erica instinctively caresses her belly.

“It’s scary as hell. It’s crazy, gross, infuriating, disappointing, and a slew of other terrible things, but those moments are few and far between. I swear to you, Erica. You’ll be a great mother, with a great kid, Catwoman.”

Tears fill her eyes. “…Thanks, Batman.”

“You’re not alone. And you never will be.”

That’s what Stiles does. He trims the fat and gets to the root of the problem. Erica may have been fuming about a cheeseburger, but what she was really doing was freaking out about how hard, and how ugly, being pregnant is. She was panicking and feeling all alone.

But Stiles always manages to bring her back to reality when she finds herself lost in her own doubting thoughts.

Derek bursts through the [front door](http://www.houzz.com/photos/60499714/Transitional-Farmhouse-farmhouse-entry-austin), a greasy white McDonald’s bag in his hand, and a bottle of strawberry syrup in the other. “Sorry. The drive-thru at McDonald’s was abysmal, and I made a stock boy at the grocery store go rooting around the back storage for another bottle of syrup after some soccer mom refused to give up the last bottle on the shelf. Even after I offered her twenty bucks for it.”

Erica grabs the bottle from Derek, hugging him tight as she cries into his shoulder. He wraps strong arms around her, petting her hair gently.

How could she ever think she was alone? Not when her big, scary Alpha spent an afternoon pleading with some 16 year old stock boy for strawberry syrup because his pregnant beta was having cravings.

She’s not alone. And never will be.

 

**October 2033**

* * *

This baby shower is insane. Lydia has really, really gone far out of her way to make this a special day for Erica. There’s a chocolate fountain, mashed potato bar, pony for pack kids to ride, and hot girls dressed as mermaids, dolling out champagne to guests to go with the [theme](http://www.designpursuit.com/20-mermaid-baby-shower-party-ideas/).

[Thomas](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uWwDN_VHTuI/VaKQvijge4I/AAAAAAAACdE/A77SO4tV9lc/s1600/9728_content_teddy-sears-masters-of-sex.jpg'), Laura’s husband, is a bit bothered by all the mermaid décor, jumping a bit with his glowing yellow eyes every time he’s offered champagne by one of the [bottle girls](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/47/1a/d2/471ad29753e524bcae0dbb09221b0e06.jpg). Erica doesn’t blame him. She’d be skittish, too, if she were kidnapped and nearly drown by a siren.

Other than that, the party is a blast. Lydia’s amazing when it comes to soirees, as always.

Erica also loves that she hasn’t had to stand or lift a finger all day. She half-suspects Lydia’s made Liam her personal valet for the day, seeing as how he hasn’t left her side the whole weekend at [Red Grove](http://www.houzz.com/projects/26751/palazzo-moderno). He’s fetched her anything and everything she’s needed since the pack arrived Friday afternoon.

Kira comes rushing up with a good sized box wrapped in pink paper and her usual bright smile. “Hi! I’m so sorry I’m late.”

Lydia saunters to them out of nowhere. “I’ll take that. Thank you,” she says, grabbing the gift from Kira’s hands and wandering off, without breaking stride.

“I forgot what Lydia in party planning mode looks like,” Kira says. “Is she really wearing a headset?”

“I believe she is,” Erica chuckles.

Kira bends down to plant a kiss on Erica’s cheek. “How are you, Catwoman?”

“I’m good.”

“Yeah?”

Erica nods. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in a good while. Since Stiles and Derek split the houses up.”

Kira takes the empty seat beside her. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just been so crazy trying to run everything in Fresno, taking over for Peter. Thank the weregods for Jackson and Malia. They are such a big help. Maila’s scary as hell and Jackson’s got a head for numbers. Plus, Peter surprisingly kept things on the up and up before he left. So it’s not bad, just stressful.”

“You’re doing better than Laura is. Trying to start business in a territory we left unattended for forever has been chaotic for her. Vampires in the area are making trouble for her. Derek’s going down there with Peter and Boyd next week,” Erica tells the kitsune. “It’ll be good for Peter to go. He’s still griping about having to move back to Beacon Hills.”

“Pfft. Don’t let Peter fool you. He’s happy to be back home. The Hale territory is in his blood, it calls to his wolf. He’s centered there.”

“I know, but I think he misses you, Malia, and Ethan. Braeden, too.”

Kira smiles. “I miss him, too. Where is that sassy bastard anyway,” Kira asks, eyes flitting around the crowded room for Peter’s face.

“Last I saw, he and Yvette disappeared into the upstairs.”

“Oh, really…” Kira says, intrigued with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup.”

“Well, I saw Derek pull Stiles into the laundry room as soon as I got here.”

Erica rolls her eyes. “Color me surprised.”

“Hey, 14 years of marriage, three kids deep, and they still can’t keep their hands off each other. We should all be that lucky.”

»»»

“Oh, my God, Derek,” Stiles moans into his husband’s ear. Derek fucks him slow and deep atop the [stone sink](http://www.houzz.com/photos/5289927/Laundry-Room-Dreaming-mediterranean-laundry-room-new-york) he braces a hand on, with the other gripping tight to the back of Derek’s shirt.

“Fuck, Stiles. You feel so good…”

“Lydia’s going to kill us.”

Derek’s head lifts from the crook of Stiles’ neck. “That’s what you say in response. Please don’t talk about other people while I’m fucking you.”

“Sorry. I just remembered she asked me to help her with some party games…20 minutes ago.”

“Twenty minutes ago? Wow. That’s like 3 hours in Lydia-time. She is going to kill you.”

Stiles grins wickedly. “Worth it.”

Derek grins back, and maneuvers his hips the way Stiles likes, so he can hit a certain spot—

“OH, FUCK, DEREK!”

\--just right.

 

**November 2033**

* * *

“You got a package.”

“I swear to God, you better not be naked, Stiles,” Erica quips, head tilted upward, eyes closed, to the bright, warm sun.

It’s November in California, and global warming is upon us all; not exactly uncommon for 85 degree weather in the fall.

She soaks pleasantly in the [pool](http://www.houzz.com/photos/40342236/Casa-Rustica-Mallorca-2015-farmhouse-pool-other-metro) on the [float](https://www.walmart.com/ip/Blue-Wave-Products-Cooler-Couch/16628277?action=product_interest&action_type=title&item_id=16628277&placement_id=irs-106-t1&strategy=PWVAV&visitor_id&category=&client_guid=1b0b03f2-08e2-451b-9e9d-1a2e15c1bc2d&customer_id_enc&config_id=106&parent_item_id=22600116&parent_anchor_item_id=22600116&guid=5dd74b71-a722-4469-876c-f9dd584c7467&bucket_id=irsbucketdefault&beacon_version=1.0.1&findingMethod=p13n) Derek bought himself that somehow has managed to be commandeered by everyone in the house but him.

“O, agony. Whatever became of the golden haired girl that used to love me so?”

“Her everlasting love was no longer everlasting, floating away on a carefree breeze when thy pale boy fell madly for the wolf,” she replies just as wistfully.

He smiles, loving when Erica plays along. “No, Catwoman. A real package. Not that mine isn’t, or nearly, as impressive.”

She shields her eyes from the sun rays beaming down on her with her hand. Stiles gives her a wink before handing the small, brown box to her.

She snaps out a claw, running the sharp point along the packaging label and tape. Inside is a smaller wrapped parcel in brown paper, held together by twine in a neat bow. She unties it—

$100,000 dollars of banded cash.

“Now, _that’s_ a package,” Stiles quips, just as taken aback as she is. “Who sent you money?”

“Someone that clearly doesn’t know I make three times this much just being in this pack.” She picks the money up, revealing a note: _**Wish I could do more. Sorry. –R**_

“That son-of-a-bitch…”

“If that money is from who I think it is, Erica, I swear to God I will _demand_ that Derek kill him,” Stiles says. And she knows he means it.

Without thinking, Erica angrily flings the cash and watches it slowly descend into the chlorine water. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want the kid, his daughter. So she doesn’t need him. Or his guilt money.

A smile cracks upon her face, feeling vengefully satisfied…until a tidal of water splashes onto her, rocking her floating chair to the side a bit.

Stiles is in the water, clothes and all, swimming to the bottom of the pool like an Olympic diver.

He swans back to the surface, holding the money she so carelessly threw into the water a moment ago. He paddles over toward her. “You get points for abrupt hostility, but none for creativity,” he smirks.

“What?”

“Have you learned nothing from me or Lydia being in this pack,” he asks with a wicked, sly grin. The kind he gets when he comes up with a truly sinister idea…

»»»

“I didn’t do it, Petra! I would never donate money to those psychotic specieists,” Ryder insists to his Alpha.

“Well, someone did,” she scowls, the faintness of her Russian accent rearing its head. “And I don’t appreciate it. I’m getting phone calls and emails from those bastards, wanting me and my pack to donate more money. As if I’d ever!” She folds her thin, pale arms over her small, perky breasts and peers at him with narrow eyes and tilt of her head. “Who did you anger?”

He sighs, rubbing at his eyes, willing the tension headache behind them to disappear. “Erica.”

[Petra](http://66.media.tumblr.com/9eae44d8c80925d0e4e54b021ae49760/tumblr_notz9tdpEJ1rpuq78o1_500.jpg) shrugs.

“The blonde from the Hale Pack.”

Petra rolls her eyes, swearing under her breath in Russian. “Always a woman with you. And this time a Hale. Idiot. What did you do to this one, _шлюха_?”

His leg shakes as he sits nervously before her in the plushy chair on the other side of her thin desk of refurbished wood. “…I got her pregnant. She’s keeping it. I told her… I just couldn’t. But I had this dream a few weeks back. I woke up crying and…scared. So I sent her half of my savings. She must’ve taken it and donated the money in the pack’s name to C.A.I.M.”

Petra chuckles dryly. “Oh, puppy… You moron.”

“Come on, Petra, you know me! I’m not father material! I’m selfish and unreliable and allergic to responsibility! I can’t be someone’s dad!”

“With women you are those things, yes. With pack, no.”

“You know that’s different.”

“With you, puppy, yes. It is different. Unfortunately. Had it not been, we could have gained an ally in the most powerful pack on the west coast. We would have been protected by the Hales. And now, sadly, we’re not, all because you have Peter Pan Syndrome.”

Ryder averts his eyes, feeling ashamed, and embarrassed at his Alpha’s dress down.

“If you weren’t my most loyal beta, Ryder… Did you love this girl?”

He shakes his head.

“Did you at least care about her?”

“Not the way she wanted me to.”

Petra sighs at her hapless beta wolf as though he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Arranged matings withered and died ages ago. Regardless, though, I would never force you into one. With anyone. Hale or no Hale. But are you sure you can turn your back on this girl and your cub?”

“No man is ‘sure’ or ‘okay’ with turning away from their own child…but I know that I am not the best thing for that baby. Or Erica. Besides, she and her pack seem to be sending a pretty clear fucking message that they want nothing to do with me. Or my help in any way.”

“Crystal clear. They could have just burned the money, but sending half your life savings to C.A.I.M.? In the pack’s name? I’d be furious if it weren’t so perfectly evil. I suspect the Alpha-mate was the culprit. He has a very devious sense of humor.” She stands, grabbing her purse. “And a very heavy bat he keeps close by. Do as he wishes and don’t contact Erica in the future, along with the child. I’ll call Alpha Hale and apologize on your behalf, once again fixing the damage you’ve caused.”

Ryder lowers his head. “Thanks, Petra.”

She rounds her desk. “I’m not doing it for you. For the kid,” she tilts his head up to look at her. “Because you’re right. You would make a shitty father.” Her eyes flash red as they look down at him. “This, is the last time I mop up your mess. Got it?”

He swallows hard, hearing the seriousness in her tone and in her heartbeat. “Yes, Alpha.”

She releases her grasp on his chin. “Good. You’re not a bad guy, Ryder. But you’re not a very good one either.”

He watches as she saunters out of her [office](http://www.houzz.com/photos/17471976/Richmond-Elevation-Custom-craftsman-home-office-other-metro), leaving him with a knot in his stomach and a sick feeling at the back of his throat.

 

**Christmas Eve 2033**

* * *

“You have got to be kidding me?!”

“Of course this would happen. God! And all over my seats! This is Italian leather, Erica!”

“Fuck your seats, Peter!”

“ _’Peter, you take Erica. She can ride with you. There’s not enough room in our car with the kids and presents’_ he said. I am going to murder Stiles. I swear it. I don’t care if he is my Alpha.”

“God, when did you get so whiny,” Erica complains.

“I’m not whining. I’m expressing a deep displeasure with the events unfolding at the moment. Like you suddenly deciding to have a baby in my [car](http://image.automobilemag.com/f/38203084+w750+st0/Baby-Porsche-Boxster-rear-left-side-view.jpg), in the middle of a traffic jam, on Christmas, on the Golden Gate Bridge.”

“You sure it has nothing to do with the fact that your wife is currently stuck at JFK airport in a snow storm, where her ridiculously handsome ex-husband is also taking up space?”

“The fact that you think Raoul is ‘ridiculously handsome’ simply proof of the horrific taste you have in men. Notwithstanding the ever so stoic Boyd,” he sasses, trying to reach Derek on his cellphone for the fifth time since her water broke.

“We should have left with them. We’d be at Lydia and Jordan’s by now. Or the goddamn hospital,” Erica groans, fighting a contraction.

“Hey, how was I supposed to know you were going to luge out a kid today? I didn’t think being a little behind schedule would be this bad. There’s nothing wrong with a grand entrance.”

Erica glares at him. “You’re so gay. How does Yvette not see that?”

“I hope once we get to the hospital they’re all out of epidurals,” he snarks back at her. He tries texting instead.

“Derek hates texting. If you’re going to do that then try Stiles instead.”

“I text Stiles at what feels like hours ago. He’s not responding.  I’m trying Lydia now.”

“Oh, thank Christ! If anyone can come through, it’s her. And John. No, wait! Call John instead. He’ll know what to do.”

Peter takes her advice and puts the phone up to his ear. Erica grips the shit out of the door handle as a hard contraction rips through her, making her cry out in pain. Peter immediately takes her hand into his, letting black veins crawl up his arm, relieving her of her distress.

“Hello? John—?” Peter winces as Erica breaks three of his fingers when another contraction hits. “Fuck! That hurt like hell!”

“How do you think I feel, asshole?!” She’s hot and sweaty now, letting go of Peter’s hand long enough to pull her hat and scarf off her body.

_“Peter? Peter, you there? Where are you and Erica?”_

“Funny story. We’re going to need the paramedics.” He looks out the windshield at the unmoving traffic before them. “And maybe a helicopter.”

»»»

Stiles shoves a steaming styrofoam cup in Boyd’s face. “It’s hot tea.”

Boyd takes it and sets it down on the end table between his seat and Stiles’ in the [waiting room](http://www.greshamsmith.com/GreshamSmith/media/Showcase-Projects/Showcase%201/Wayne%20Memorial%20Hospital/Wayne_06.jpg?width=980&height=606&ext=.jpg). He stands, folding his arms over his large chest. His body is rigid, tense.

“Boyd—”

“It’s been over 7 hours.”

“Having a baby takes some time, Boyd. Why don’t you sit down, okay?”

“…No, thank you.”

“Derek’s in there with her. If something were wrong they’d send him out, or he’d tell us.” Stiles pulls gently at Boyd’s elbow until he unfolds his arms. Stiles takes his hand and motions for him to sit back down.

Boyd takes a seat, still holding Stiles’ hand.

“She’s fine, Boyd. I promise you. If by some small chance she’s not, I will give you permission to destroy everything and everyone in sight.”

That’s gets Stiles a small smile from the beta wolf.

“Even the vending machine?”

“Especially the vending machine.”

Boyd gives Stiles’ hand a soft squeeze before letting it go. Stiles leans over and pecks Boyd’s cheek.

Boyd picks up his hot tea.

“Why do you let me do that,” Stiles asks.

“Do what?”

“Kiss you.”

Boyd shrugs. “Same as hugging to me. And I don’t mind it.”

Stiles blushes.

“You’re really affectionate. Everybody acts like they hate it but… I don’t feel like acting with you.”

“Because I’m your Alpha.”

“No. Because you’re you.”

Stiles takes a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. Boyd doesn’t say much, but when he does… Boy, does it hit right where it’s supposed to.

“You really are the most genuine person in this pack, aren’t you? Probably the most genuine person I know,” Stiles compliments.

Boyd simply shakes his head. “No. That’s you. And Theo. I just… I don’t know.”

“Listen. You listen, and you see. Along with a hundred other things,” Stiles tells him assuredly.

Boyd gives a sweet, half-smile.

Stiles turns his body to face Boyd, wanting to give him his complete focus. “Have I been unfair to you? I mean, have I protected you enough? They way I do everyone else?”

Boyd chuckles. “You mean coddle me like everyone else. You talking about with Erica, and how we were?”

“Well…yeah. Did you feel supported, or ignored by me? Could…Could I have done more, or said more, to Erica about how she was treating you?”

“No one’s responsible for how things went down between me and Erica except me and Erica.”

“I know that, but, I’m saying—”

“You don’t fuss over me like you do everyone else. It sucked realizing that at first, but then I saw it as a compliment that you didn’t.”

“How?”

“Well, when you baby someone it’s because you don’t trust them with their own emotions. You don’t think they’re strong enough to handle what’s thrown at them. You expect them to fall apart, to fail, and need you. I’m the only one you don’t do that with. You even do it with Derek, but not me. That means something. Means you trust me.”

Boyd shrugs, like everything he just said wasn’t as profound as Stiles finds it; just some simply observation he’s made over the last 20 years.

“I think you’re being nice and letting me off the hook.”

Boyd merely shakes his head. “No. I’d tell you otherwise if I needed to.”

He would. Boyd only ever speaks the truth.

“I do trust you. You’re strong. I know you can handle anything,” Stiles tells his beta, eyes wet with tears he tries not to shed.

“I figure if I can take on vampires and hunters and the FBI, then I can get over Erica Reyes….someday.”

Stiles leans over and gives Boyd another peck on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

“I can’t wait for you to meet your mate. If you’re this amazing, then she’s out of this world, Boyd,” Stiles says sincerely.

“What if I never meet her,” Boyd asks, looking truly concerned about it.

Stiles’ face tenses and his hands turn into fists in his lap. “Vernon Michael Boyd IV, I promise you that you will, but if for some immoral reason you don’t, I will personally swear vengeance on every deity there is, and vow to bring destruction and chaos on Earth until it is destroyed.”

It sounds hyperbolic and cartoonish, but Boyd can hear Stiles’ heartbeat. He means it. With everything in him. Stiles would/will corrupt everything in his power to protect him. And it means the sun, the moon, and the stars to Boyd to be cherished like that.

Maybe he does need to be coddled.

“I think we’ve already brought enough wrath into the world for one lifetime,” Boyd jokes.

“Not when something is standing between one of you and your happiness,” Stiles says plainly.

Stiles isn’t just a pack mom. He’s pack animal. And not for the first time, Boyd can’t help but to wonder just how terrifying Stiles would be if he were a werewolf. He’d probably be more deadly and more dangerous than a hurricane, he figures.

Stiles winks at him, and it’s frightening as well as endearing.

Derek rounds the corner in blue scrubs and a mask. He pulls the mask down, revealing a giant smile on his bearded face. “7lbs. 5 oz. She’s beautiful.”

The waiting room erupts into cheers!

Jackson corks a bottle of champagne while Lydia hands out plastic cups she stole from the hospital cafeteria.

“Can we go see her,” Boyd asks.

“Yeah. Doc says she can have visitors in a few,” Derek answers.

“See? What I tell you? She’s doing great. Tough cookie that Erica girl.”

“I’ll say,” Derek adds. “She bit me when she started crowning.”

Stiles and Boyd burst into laughter.

 

**August 2037 (4 years later…)**

* * *

Erica hits the little camera button, capturing [Sophia](http://www.sarahgoldingphotography.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/Persephone3.jpg) knocking down her own sandcastle. Erica laughs, and it makes her chubby-cheeked toddler laugh even louder, stomping on brown sand with her squiggly toes.

She switches to video and records Sophia watching her “cousins,” bigger, stronger than her, playing at the water’s edge. She points with a sad-looking face at them, wanting to join.

“What’s that face?”

“I want to play.”

“We are playing, piglet.”

“No. There.” She points again.

Erica shuts off her camera phone. “Okay. I’ll go with you, alright?” She stands wiping sand from her butt, and lifts her blonde-haired child from the sand. “I’ll hold on to you, okay?”

She walks them to the [shore](http://www.californiabeaches.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/bigstock-Malibu-Lagoon-State-Beach-in-M-45961540.jpg).

Jake and Lee are messing around, splashing one another. Claudia’s trying to keep up with her big brothers, but is just taking huge buckets of water to the face. Scott and Allison’s daughter, Natalie, draws hearts in the sand with Lydia’s daughter, Beth. She wipes her hand across Lee’s name in the middle of the bigger one when he looks to be getting too close with his antics.

Isaac’s letting his two sons bury him in the sand while Freya sunbaths.

Jackson builds sandcastles with his two daughters. Gemma, 7 months pregnant, watches with a bright smile.

Derek reads a book under a large umbrella while 1 year old, [Nola](http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwshwqelMB1qalaaa.jpg), bounces on his lap. Stiles sits beside him in a beach chair, fast asleep.

Boyd and Cora race one another to the ice cream vendor on the pier.

The bright warm sun shines down on Erica’s skin and feels like home. She wants the strip out of her bathing suit and run naked and wild along the wet sand, then dive head-first into the cold, ocean waters. Her wolf is pacing for the chance.

“Mommy.”

Sophia. Squirming to be let down.

“No, piglet. You’re too little.”

Sophia starts to whine, on the verge of balling her eyes out, when Cora’s son, [Dakota](http://image.shutterstock.com/z/stock-photo-close-up-of-a-cute-year-old-boy-59060026.jpg), runs up. “I’ll hold her hand.”

It was a strange thing to watch the then 5 year old crumble to the ground, shaking like a seizure, when his eyes fell on her daughter.

Erica didn’t know mates could meet that young. It terrified her having to see her baby girl scream her head off and wiggle at the pain pumping through her chest. Erica could feel her agony. She hadn’t even noticed Dakota’s own hurt until she caught the stunned looks from her Alphas when it was all over.

“I’ll hold her hand tight. I promise,” the now 8 year old says.

Erica smiles at him. It’s such a lovely thing to have a soulmate. It means you’re never alone.

Her Sophia will never be alone…

Erica sets her to her feet, and without hesitation, Sophia reaches for Dakota’s hand.

They step a little further into the water, up to Sophia’s plumpy, little butt. Dakota picks up seashells to show her, and the 3 year old is nothing if not fascinated.

Tears form in Erica’s eyes. Stiles was right. She’s worth it. Her Sophia is worth it.

_“Erica. Are you okay,” Derek asks._

She turns her head, the wind whipping her curls madly, looking at her Alpha far back in the dry sand, away from the water.

She nods. “Yeah.”

_“Sure?”_

“Yeah. Just happy. Just… I’m happy.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: C.A.I.M. stands for Citizens Against Interspecies Mating. They're basically akin to a white supremacist group, but with a hatred for all supernatural creatures.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you liked it :D


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